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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24375829">Actions Speak Louder (but maybe we should talk, too)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Herenya_writes/pseuds/Herenya_writes'>Herenya_writes</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Star Trek: The Original Series, Star Trek: The Original Series (Movies)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Bones is the greatest, Jim is also an idiot, M/M, OMS but not yet, T'hy'la, This Simple Feeling, and now he's trying to make up for it, but it isn't his fault, make-up fic, other crew mentioned, post TMP, spock's an idiot</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 01:01:13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,271</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24375829</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Herenya_writes/pseuds/Herenya_writes</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>After the events of The Motion Picture, Spock is aboard the Enterprise, but not all is well yet. He hurt Jim by leaving three years ago, and he's going to do all he can to make up for it. Still, he doesn't deserve Jim's friendship, much less his love. Does he?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>James T. Kirk/Spock</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>206</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Actions Speak Louder (but maybe we should talk, too)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This was written for an anon prompt I got on tumblr: "I want Jim silently pining but being too cautious to do something for fear to lose Spock again, and at the same time Spock is wooing Jim to win him back... post- TMP." Here's my take on that. Enjoy!</p><p>It has now been edited. I apologize to everyone who read the first version.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Spock glanced over at the capt—admiral. It still felt strange to call Jim by that title, and the half-aborted flinch Jim never fully suppressed told him the man found it equally jarring. But it was his title, and Spock would use it, despite the fact that every time he looked at Jim the words </span>
  <em>
    <span>Captain </span>
  </em>
  <span>and </span>
  <em>
    <span>T’hy’la </span>
  </em>
  <span>flashed across his mind like a single thought.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>To an outsider, the admiral would look at ease in his chair, leaning as he was against one of the armrests as he listened to Chekov explain the course-correction that had been made 2.31 minutes ago. Spock, however, knew that the almost lazy smile and sprawl were both masks that hid a deep discomfort. Jim had not been taking care of himself as he should during the past few weeks—ever since the V’ger crisis had ended and the Enterprise had taken off into the vastness of space once more. It was obvious that Jim had been getting far less sleep than was optimal, and Spock knew he rarely ate more than one meal a day. Seeing Jim like this hurt, and he ached to reach out.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His eyes turned from Jim to the protein bar that sat next to his own station. He had brought it with the intention of giving it to the admiral but now found himself hesitating. Their shift was nearly over and there was a possibility that Jim would go to the mess hall after to eat, although his behavior over the past nine days suggested that such a trip was unlikely. Thus, it was logical to ensure that the man ate now. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He continued to delay.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>What right did he have to act in what he believed to be Jim’s best interest? The last time he had done so, he had separated them for three years and caused the man great pain. He had apologized for his actions, of course, but he knew that his words—sincere as they were—could do little to heal the wounds he had left behind in his t’hy’la’s mind, whether Jim was aware of them or not. After causing such pain, he could lay no more claim to the man’s wellbeing than any other member of the crew, and yet he could not simply sit idle while Jim continued to neglect himself. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After another 6.07 seconds of deliberation, Spock made up his mind and grabbed both the protein bar and the PADD that lay next to his station and crossed the bridge to where Jim sat.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Excuse me, Admiral,” he said, holding out the PADD to the man. “There are three forms that require your signature. They are all to approve maintenance on deck seven.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jim took the PADD with an absent-minded nod. “Thank you, Mr. Spock. I’ll look these over after the shift and get them back to you.” He paused. “Is that for me?” he asked, nodding at the protein bar Spock held.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You did not eat breakfast,” Spock said in way of an answer.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>For a moment, the air between them seemed to fall still, as if even the ever-moving particles did not dare disturb the strange dynamic that had sprung up between them in the wake of V’ger. Then, Jim’s lips turned up in a shadow of his typical smile and he took the bar. “Ever the observant Vulcan. Thank you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The exchange complete, Spock retreated back to his station and continued his work until his shift was over. He could feel Jim’s eyes on him every few minutes, and his efficiency decreased by 0.5 percent as a portion of his mind wondered what the man was thinking when he looked at him. What did he see?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>.   .   .</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jim rubbed his eyes and blinked several times to stop the words on the PADD in front of him from swimming. When that didn’t work, he set the device aside with a heavy sigh. The PADD landed on his desk, disturbing a number of the other objects there and causing a crinkling sound. Jim glanced over, a frown on his face. He didn’t have anything that would—ah, the protein bar Spock had brought him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The sight brought the hunger that had been simmering in his mind flaring to life and caused his stomach to growl loudly. Finally caving to the hunger that had been gnawing on him, Jim tore open the packaging and took a bite. As he chewed, he couldn’t help but wonder why Spock had gone out of his way to make sure he ate.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Years ago, Spock had started bringing him food when he knew he hadn’t eaten, and that, along with a million other tiny signs, had made Jim think that what he felt for his brilliant First Officer and friend was reciprocated. He squeezed his eyes shut, blocking out the painful memory that tried to rise to the front of his mind of dark eyes and short words. Needless to say, he had been wrong, and by opening his mouth he had ruined the last few months of their mission and driven Spock away for </span>
  <em>
    <span>three years. </span>
  </em>
  <span>He wasn’t about to make that same mistake again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>None of that had changed the love he felt surge in his chest every time he thought of the Vulcan.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Peanut butter and chocolate filled his mouth as he took another bite of the bar, thinking back on the late nights he had spent in Bones’ company once they had touched down on Earth, throwing back drinks in a vain attempt to stop the pain. It had never helped. For three years, he had lived with a shattered heart, and it had done more to affect him than he liked to admit. He had taken a desk job, for stars’ sake! And then Spock had appeared on his bridge like some kind of angel, and Jim had let himself think that things could go back to the way they had been.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When Spock had risked his life to meld with V’ger Jim had panicked. He shouldn’t have been so emotional in sickbay—especially not when he knew that Spock had spent the last three years purging himself of all emotion—but when he had taken Spock’s hand he could have sworn he felt a spark pass between them just as it had all those times during their mission together. He had allowed himself to hope again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But now Spock was distant. After V’ger had been dealt with and Starfleet Command had given them the okay to continue their course into the unknown, Spock had disappeared for an entire day to meditate. When he had finally emerged from his self-isolation, he was more withdrawn—his expression perfectly Vulcan, his words logical and sparing little room for human indulgences. He had agreed to bi-weekly chess games, though, and all of the contradictions left Jim’s head spinning.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Part of him wished that he was able to move on. Three years should have been long enough for his heart to heal, but seeing Spock had brought every emotion he had tried to forget crashing down on him again until he could barely breathe. It hurt to be so close to the Vulcan again while still being separated by the wall Spock had built between them, but the thought of Spock leaving hurt even more. Every few days now he woke in a cold sweat with Spock’s name on his lips after dreaming that he had disappeared once again. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He groaned aloud, throwing away the now-empty wrapper of the protein bar as he picked up his PADD once more. He had to focus on something other than Spock, or he would think himself in circles all night. Besides, his ship wasn’t going to run itself, and he wasn’t about to give Command a reason to take the Enterprise away from him again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>.   .   .</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Spock stepped into his quarters, his body instantly relaxing as the warm air rushed over him. He ordered the lights to forty percent and crossed to his wardrobe, pulling out his meditation mat and robe. A few minutes later, he was kneeling on the mat in front of his incense burner, slowly breathing in the rich, almost spicy, smell that never failed to remind him of the sands of Vulcan.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As he had done every day since returning to the Enterprise, Spock began the process of settling his mind and clearing it of the emotions that had bombarded him over the course of first his shift on the bridge and then his work in the labs. Although his telepathy was mostly limited to physical contact, he could also sense vague impressions of emotions when they were projected with any strength, something that his human crew members did unconsciously with great frequency. Before he had attempted Kholinar, dismissing the emotions that others projected around him had been a regular activity that rarely took more than fifteen minutes. Now, however, it took an average of forty-seven minutes and thirteen seconds of careful concentration for him to categorize and release the residual emotions.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Despite the effort regulating it required, Spock would not trade this bombardment for the silence that Kholinar would have brought him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When he had been undergoing Kholinar, he had been mostly alone, save for the Vulcan elders who would occasionally monitor his progress. Thus, his exposure to the emotions of others had been practically nonexistent, and he had become unused to the burden that they caused. He had been forced to spend an entire day in meditation following the resolution of the V’ger crisis due to the overwhelming emotions that nearly every member of the crew had been projecting. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Thankfully, he was beginning to regain the skill and it took him only forty minutes and seventeen seconds to clear his mind enough to properly begin the introspective meditation that he desired. He was due to play chess with Jim in two hours and thirty-one minutes, and he needed to clear his mind and bring his emotions under control first.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As he often did, Spock began his meditation by reviewing his actions of the day and filing away any thoughts or observations of significance. It had been a productive but quiet day, so there was little that required his attention now. Except, of course, his time with Jim. Following his successful interaction with the man three days ago, he had taken to bringing Jim a protein bar halfway through their shift. Today, the man had actually eaten it during the shift while he looked over reports, which indicated that he was either hungrier than he had been previously or that he was growing more comfortable with Spock’s actions.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Spock wanted to believe that they were falling once more into the easy comradery that they had shared before, but he hesitated to place too much stock in his hope. Jim had renewed his easy smiles and quiet teasings, but he still held himself apart. Since that day in sickbay, they had touched only three times, and each time Jim had quickly drawn away, a storm in his eyes that Spock could not read.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But Jim had once again initiated their chess games, and if this almost-warmth was all that could exist between them now, Spock would accept it. To be allowed to dwell even on the edges of the radiance that was his t’hy’la was more than he deserved. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>.   .   .</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A knock sounded at the door, startling Jim. He had been reading up on the various upgrades that had been made to the Enterprise since he had last been her captain, and it had sucked him in. He had already studied all of the large changes, the things that would be important to his success as a captain, but there were a million other smaller updates that he was only just now beginning to understand.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The knock repeated itself, and Jim shook his head to clear it before saying. “Come.” The door opened to reveal Spock, holding two steaming mugs in one hand.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Stars, is it time for our game already?” Jim asked as he stood. Usually, he had the board set up by the time Spock arrived, but time really had gotten away from him tonight. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A brief expression crossed Spock’s face, gone before it ever truly appeared. “If you are otherwise occupied, Admiral, we can reschedule our game,” he suggested, but Jim shook his head. He had only just gotten Spock back, he wasn’t going to push him away again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s fine, Spock, and please, we’re off duty—it’s Jim.” He smiled at the man, ignoring the way his chest tightened as he did so. “Just give me a few minutes to set up the board.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Spock seemed to hesitate for a moment before nodding and taking his usual place—at least, it had been his usual place three years ago—at the table, setting one of the mugs in front of him and the other where Jim usually sat.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jim pulled the chess set out from where it had been languishing under his desk. He had brought it as a spur-of-the-moment addition to his uniforms and a few other bare essentials when he had first boarded the Enterprise. He stepped over to the table and pulled the board out of its case, setting up its various levels and pieces with familiar ease. Stars, it had been too long since he had last done this.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When he was finished, he took a seat and glanced at the mug. A dark brown liquid sat inside, delicately topped with whipped cream. A chuckle escaped him without his permission as he picked up the hot chocolate and took a careful sip, enjoying the way it warmed his throat as he swallowed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I haven’t had hot chocolate in years,” he said, grinning across the chess set at Spock. “They had me living on coffee and not much else while I was planetside.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Guilt flickered in Spock’s eyes, but the Vulcan stayed silent. He had already apologized for leaving, and Jim knew it would be illogical for him to do it again, but some dark part of him took a sliver of satisfaction from knowing that Spock regretted what he had done. He quickly squashed that feeling, however, and nodded to the board. “I believe it’s your turn to play white.” Spock raised an elegant eyebrow but obeyed the implied instruction and moved one of his pawns and the game began.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>.   .   .</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Spock watched Jim’s fingers as they curled around one of his rooks and plucked it from the board, moving it up a level to threaten one of Spock’s knights. His eyes flicked up to Jim’s face as the man grinned at him, and he moved his knight out of danger. The game continued, but Spock found he could not give the board his full attention. Instead of analyzing the game, he analyzed the man across from him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jim had finished his hot chocolate a few moves ago, and the satisfied sigh he had given as he had done so told Spock that the beverage was appreciated, as did the light in Jim’s eyes. He had missed that light these past years, even if he had not allowed himself to dwell on it for more than an instant. He had also missed this, the comfortable silence that often fell as they simply enjoyed one another’s presence without needing to fill the air. He had not believed that he would ever experience it again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When he had faced V’ger and melded with the machine, he had found the answer that the elders on Gol had told him to seek. It was, as he had told Jim in sickbay, a simple feeling, one he should have realized long ago. It was love, yes, but in its purest form. T’hy’la. Until that meld, he had not realized the extent of the bond he and Jim shared or perhaps had simply ignored it. Either way, the realization had ensured that he would never be able to return to Gol. He would not be leaving Jim’s side unless the man commanded it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He would not have been surprised if Jim demanded that of him. After all he had done, it was Jim’s right to do so, and yet the anger that he had expected from the man had been largely absent in their interactions thus far.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Part of Spock wanted to look across their bond and learn what was going through his t’hy’la’s mind, but he shut that thought down the second it rose. It was doubtful that Jim was even aware of their connection, and Spock would never violate the sanctity of Jim’s mind in that way. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s your move.” Jim’s voice broke Spock from his thoughts, and he had to work to keep a blush from staining his cheeks. It was more difficult than it should have been, but then again, Jim had always been able to draw reactions from him that no one else could.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“My apologies, Jim, it seems my mind is elsewhere,” he stated as he once again moved his knight out of danger, this time positioning it so that it would be able to strike at Jim’s bishop within two moves. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I can see that,” the man laughed, deftly moving his bishop out of harm’s way. “Is it anything I can help with?” he asked, concern replacing the laughter in his voice. “I know you’ve been busy these last few days.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Even after everything, Jim was concerned for him. He didn’t deserve the man’s consideration, but he could not deny the way his heart seemed to lift knowing that he had it. Nevertheless, there was nothing Jim could do about this particular problem. “No, Jim,” he said, “it is not.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Thankfully, Jim didn’t press him for an answer, and the game continued, Spock steadily losing pieces as Jim seemed to dance across the board.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A mere forty-eight minutes after they had begun playing Jim cornered Spock’s king, and Spock conceded the game. Jim began to set the pieces up once more—they typically played at least two games, often more—but Spock could read tension in the man’s shoulders and exhaustion in the droop of his eyes.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I should leave you to your rest,” he said, standing from the table. Jim looked up, surprise written across his face. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s only 2200, Spock. I’m not that old yet.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Spock couldn’t stop the way his lips twitched upward at Jim’s protest. “No, you are not, but you still require rest, something you have not been getting much of as of late.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A shadow of something flickered across Jim’s face too quickly for him to identify. “Observant as ever, Mr. Spock. Alright, I yield to your logic, but you owe me another game, mister.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Spock raised an eyebrow. “Indeed. Does the day after tomorrow suffice?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jim grinned. “It’s a date.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>.   .   .</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jim watched the door to his quarters slide closed and let out a long sigh. He looked over at the half-reset chessboard for a few seconds before deciding that he could wait to clean it up until the morning. A few minutes later, he was dressed in his sweats and a t-shirt, brushing his teeth in front of the mirror in his bathroom. He still wasn’t used to having a bathroom all to himself—all the senior officers had their own now—and he kept all of his stuff on one side of the counter out of habit, expecting to look over and see Spock’s soap or makeup palette tucked neatly against the wall. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He spit out the minty toothpaste and rinsed his mouth. For a few moments, he just gazed at himself in the mirror, taking in the circles under his eyes and the wrinkles in his forehead that hadn’t been there three years ago. He shook his head and strode out of the bathroom and collapsed onto his bed with a low groan.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Spock had left in a hurry, and while he had cited Jim’s own exhaustion as his reason for doing so, Jim couldn’t help but wonder if he had done something to drive the Vulcan away. Did he annoy him? Was he projecting his emotions too loudly? He was probably a far cry from the logical, emotionally controlled people Spock had spent the last three years with. But if his presence was so irritating, why had Spock agreed to play with him again? Was it just so that they could retain that familiarity that had made them such a good command team the first time around?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jim groaned again and buried his face in his pillow. He wanted to believe that Spock was warming up to him again, but the truth was that even if they did regain their friendship, it would never be what Jim wanted it to be. Just because Spock had come back didn’t mean he was suddenly in love with him. Spock had spent three years purging his emotions, not strengthening them.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>.   .   .</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Once again, Spock left a protein bar for Jim halfway through their shift, and once again, the man ate it on the bridge while sorting through various Starfleet communications. They had passed a nebula of a rather unique composition during the first hour of the shift, and Spock had spent the rest analyzing the readings they had received and making notes on the things he wished to research further. He thought about spending the next several hours in the science labs doing just that, but he dismissed the idea. The data would still be there tomorrow, and he had a different activity in mind for today.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When his Beta shift replacement arrived, Spock ceded his station and took a few steps toward the turbolift before realizing that Jim had not moved from his chair. The man must have felt his gaze for he turned and shot him a grin. “I can feel you worrying, Mister Spock. Don’t. I’ve just got a few more reports to look over, and I’d rather do it on the bridge than in my quarters.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Spock nodded in response, unashamed to be caught in his concern, a most logical emotion. “Very well, Admiral. Please inform me if you require any aid.” Jim waved his hand in acknowledgment of the offer, and Spock took his leave.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Once the turbolift doors slid closed, he ordered the lift to Deck 5. A few minutes later, he was standing outside of Doctor McCoy’s office, hand raised to knock. Before he could, however, the door opened to reveal the doctor, a scowl painted on his face.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What do you need, Spock? I’m on my way to lunch.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“If you are available, I wish to discuss the admiral,” Spock replied, his tone even in the face of the southern doctor’s irritation. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The doctor’s face changed instantly, the scowl deepening and his brows drawing together. “Looks like I’ll be eating later,” he grumbled before stepping back. “You’d better come in, Spock.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Spock stepped into the office and stood in an easy parade rest as the doctor returned to his desk and sat heavily. For a moment, McCoy simply looked at him before nodding to himself with a sigh. “Alright, Spock, spit it out.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Spock refrained from stating that there was nothing for him to spit. This was not the time for his and the doctor’s typical back and forth. “I simply wish to inquire if there is anything I can do to aid the admiral. He has not been receiving adequate rest, nor is he eating as much as he should.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>McCoy barked out a laugh, his face twisting into a dark scowl, and Spock realized instantly that he had misjudged the situation. Obviously, the man was still angered by Spock’s absence and sudden return.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s some nerve, there, Spock. You leave for </span>
  <em>
    <span>three years</span>
  </em>
  <span> without thinkin’ how that might affect Jim, and then you come back and try to take care of him?” He shook his head angrily. “He survived without you, you know. He doesn’t need you to babysit him.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Spock bowed his head. “That is not my intention, Doctor. I simply desire to aid Jim in whatever way I am able,” he responded in a quiet voice. He deserved McCoy’s words, he knew, and in a way it was refreshing. Thus far, the doctor was the only one who had shown him the anger that his actions warranted.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>To his surprise, the doctor nodded and sunk back in his chair, the anger seeming to drain out of him as he sighed. “I know, Spock. Jim never told me what happened between the two of you before ya left, but he blamed himself for it. I have a feelin’ that whatever it was, though, you left because you thought you had to, not because you wanted to.” The doctor narrowed his eyes. “That doesn’t mean you’re off the hook though, mister. You hurt Jim, and you hurt him bad. Now you’re back, and I don’t think Jim really knows what to do with that.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Spock stayed silent. When he had left Gol, he had not anticipated how Jim would react to his return—he had been too focused on the need to find Jim and the answers he sought. In hindsight, however, he knew he was fortunate to have been welcomed onto the ship at all, much less with the attitude that he had been received. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The doctor sighed again and leaned forward, resting his forearms on his desk and looking at Spock with a critical eye. “You’re going to have to be patient with him, Spock, and if I’m honest, I’m not sure if things’ll ever go back to the way they were.” Spock closed his eyes for an instant as he pushed back the emotions that welled within him. “That said, if you really want to help Jim, the best way to do that is to be his First Officer. Make sure he isn’t worrying about the ship any more than is absolutely necessary, and maybe he’ll have a chance to sort through everything.” The doctor’s eyes took on a far-off look. “He missed you, you know. We all did.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I do,” Spock replied softly. “I cannot change the past, but I regret that my actions have harmed those who were close to me.” Jim had not been the only person affected by his sudden, unexplained departure, and he knew that it would take a considerable amount of effort on his part to restore the relationships he had once had. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A slow nod was the doctor’s only response, and after half a minute of silence, Spock took his leave, a plan already forming in his mind.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>.   .   .</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>No one had ever warned Jim how much paperwork came with being the captain while he was at the Academy. He had been going through reports for </span>
  <em>
    <span>hours</span>
  </em>
  <span>, and he still hadn’t gotten to the things he actually needed to sign, much less the ones that he needed to compile himself to send to Starfleet. He was supposed to have sent one a few days ago, and he still hadn’t done it or any of the others, so he had promised himself that he wouldn’t leave this conference room until he was done. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Thankfully most of the reports that needed his signature were to improve maintenance or reassignments within the ship, which meant that he didn’t have to spend too long looking them over. He hadn’t gotten any requests for upgrades from Scotty either, something he was grateful for—he didn’t want to spend an hour or more picking through engineering jargon in search of any illegal “improvements” Scotty always seemed to try and sneak in. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Finally, he signed everything on the PADD and turned his attention to the reports he needed to compile and send. When he opened the file that contained the reports, however, he saw that three-fourths of them had already been submitted over an hour ago. He frowned and opened the first report. The name at the top of the screen seemed to shimmer, and all at once, everything that had happened the last few days made sense. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He closed the report with an angry jab at the screen and opened the others. Each bore the signature of the only other person on the Enterprise who had the authority to send them—Commander Spock. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jim laughed bitterly, but it turned into a strangled sob halfway through. Of course that’s what the last few days had been about. Spock hadn’t been taking care of him because they were </span>
  <em>
    <span>friends</span>
  </em>
  <span> or anything else, he had been doing it so that Jim ‘maintained peak efficiency’ as the captain. Stars above, how had he been so blind? He had been a fool, letting himself think that Spock was warming up to him again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Spock probably thought that his time on the ground had dulled his senses, that he had lost his edge. It was </span>
  <em>
    <span>logical</span>
  </em>
  <span> for the Vulcan to step in and pick up the slack, to bring Jim a protein bar so that he could focus on doing his job, to play chess against him to sharpen his mind, to finish his reports so that the ‘Fleet knew there was someone on the ship capable of getting things done. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Well, if that’s what Spock thought, he was in for a wake-up call! Jim might be a little behind the curve, but he wasn’t going to let Spock babysit him like some newbie fresh out of the Academy! He would show that pointy-eared hobgo—</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The door to the conference room slid open to reveal Spock, PADD in hand.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>.   .  .</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Spock had been searching for Jim for the past 7.43 minutes in order to obtain the man’s signature on an upgrade he had requested be made to Science Lab 3. His search had taken him first to the man’s quarters, but when he had not answered, Spock had asked the computer to give him his location. It was unusual for Jim to be working in a conference room this late, which meant that the man was likely attempting to catch up on paperwork. That knowledge, however, did little to prepare him for what he was met with when the door slid open.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Jim?” The name slipped out without his permission, but before he could say anything else, the man jumped to his feet and stalked forward, anger obvious in his every movement. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Really, Spock? I know I’m just an illogical human, but </span>
  <em>
    <span>this?</span>
  </em>
  <span>” The man demanded, plowing forward without giving Spock a chance to respond. “Do you really think three years planetside has dulled my ability to captain a ship that badly? Because it hasn’t.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Spock’s eyes widened as he took in the PADD on the table, still open to a document he had filled out and submitted just an hour earlier. “Admiral, perhaps it would be better to have this conversation elsewhere,” he stated, mind running as he tried to think of an argument that would forestall the anger that simmered in Jim’s eyes. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jim’s lips twisted into a sneer. “I don’t think so, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Commander</span>
  </em>
  <span> Spock,” he spat. “You don’t get to run away from this conversation, not this time.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Spock’s mind ground to a halt. Jim was right, he had done enough running, and if the man had finally decided that he wasn’t worth his time or attention, it was nothing he didn’t deserve. He bowed his head. “Very well.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jim blinked as if he had been expecting more resistance, but his surprise was quickly replaced by fury. “I may have been at a desk for three years, but that doesn’t mean captaining a starship, captaining the Enterprise, isn’t still second-nature to me. I got on just fine without you for three years, and I don’t need you babysitting me now.” He took a half-step forward. “You came back, Spock, but first, you left. You left me, you left the Enterprise, you left the crew. You don’t get to come back here and act like you’re some kind of heaven-sent blessing. If I needed your help, I would have asked.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>For a few moments, Spock couldn’t find his voice. To hear his t’hy’la… He took a breath and looked up, meeting Jim’s flashing eyes. “It was not my intention to subvert your command in any way, Jim,” he said quietly, and only years of Vulcan upbringing kept him from sinking to his knees at the man’s feet. “Doctor McCoy informed me—”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You went to Bones? Really?” Jim gave a derisive snort. “What am I talking about, of course you did.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Please, I am aware that I have caused you great harm.” Jim snorted again, and pain raced through Spock’s mind. Harm didn’t even begin to describe what he had done. “I did not wish to impose myself upon you, as I know that I do not deserve your respect, much less your friendship or anything more, but caring for you is as much a part of my nature as my Vulcan heritage.” He lowered his gaze. “Forgive me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Silence fell between them and stretched until it seemed an uncrossable void. Still, Spock kept his gaze trained on the floor and waited for Jim to speak. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re telling me that you’ve been getting me protein bars and filling out my reports because you’re </span>
  <em>
    <span>worried</span>
  </em>
  <span> about me? Because you </span>
  <em>
    <span>care</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” Jim finally asked, his tone incredulous. “You’re going to have to elaborate on that, mister.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Spock’s mind told him that this was a trap. He had seen Jim’s anger, and he knew there was very little he could say that would ever repair the harm he had caused. It was likely that the man would only ridicule his futile emotions, but wasn’t that exactly what he deserved? And he had always been powerless to deny Jim anything, even this.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You believe that I left to pursue Kholinar because of your confession,” he began, keeping his gaze lowered. “This is only partly correct. The truth is that when you admitted the depth of your feelings for me, I became aware of a bond between our minds. I do not know when it formed, but it was strong, and I feared it. I feared what it meant for our future, and I feared it because I knew you had not chosen it. So I left for Gol with the intention of purging my emotions and severing the bond.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I had nearly succeeded when I felt your mind calling to mine. It was then that I left and rejoined the Enterprise.” He swallowed, remembering the look of surprise and joy and hope that had crossed Jim’s face when he had first stepped onto the bridge. “When I melded with V’ger, I became aware that the bond between us was a t’hy’la bond. Then, in the sickbay, I felt a flicker of affection from you and allowed myself to hope that I had not destroyed my future at your side.” He allowed his gaze to flick up for an instant, just long enough to read the shock on Jim’s face. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Following the crisis, however, you became distant, and I resigned myself to simply existing at the edge of your life, wherever you would allow me to be.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hold on,” Jim said, his voice tight with a million emotions that Spock could not even begin to name. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>I</span>
  </em>
  <span> was distant? You were the one who spent an entire day meditating and then came out looking like a perfect Vulcan, no feelings—simple or otherwise—in sight.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Spock blinked and looked up. “I spent three years in a place absent of emotion, Jim,” he explained. “My shields were unused to the strain that comes with working in close proximity to humans, especially following an emotional event such as the crisis that we faced. I have had to exercise strict control to keep the emotional projections of the crew from overwhelming me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The single, quiet syllable was enough to give Spock the strength he had not possessed three years ago. He stepped forward, closing the last of the space between them and cupped Jim’s face in his hands. Their eyes locked. “If you do not carry the same feelings for me that you did at the end of our mission, I ask that you tell me,” he murmured, brushing his thumb down the line of Jim’s jaw. “I am aware that I do not deserve such affection, but you are my t’hy’la; my friend, my brother, my lover. My soul longs for yours, and I would know your mind.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>For a long moment, Jim was still, and Spock began to feel fear building in his chest. Had he misjudged once again? He had thought— Then Jim’s arms were wrapping around his waist and his lips were on Spock’s. For an instant, Spock didn’t react, then one of his hands left Jim’s face to pull him closer while the other traveled up to the man’s hair as he deepened the kiss. Their bond was bright in his mind, and he poured his love across it and felt Jim answer in kind.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Eventually, Jim drew back until only their foreheads touched. “I’m still mad at you,” he said, just this side of breathless. Spock nodded his understanding. “But I love you, Spock, and nothing can change that. Not three years apart, not V’ger, nothing.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I cherish thee, my t’hy’la, and I will spend the rest of my life at your side reminding you of that, if you will have me,” Spock replied, his words both an apology and a promise. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jim chuckled and placed a light kiss on the tip of Spock’s nose. “I missed you, Spock.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And I, you.” </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This took me absolutely ages and is probably horrible, idk. (It was, it's slightly better now.) I love these idiots though. Let me know what you thought/your favorite part—comments absolutely make my day! (They do!) Thanks for reading!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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